<p>A while ago when I went back to work after the death of a family member, I sent an email to my coworkers in which I acknowledged the loss, thanked them for their kindness and then I requested that they help me to be able to go through the days as normally as I could, by treating me normally and without discussion of the loss. I explained that work was on the only place where I could feel “normal” for a while.</p>
<p>For the most part, it worked. I hope this suggestion is helpful to you.</p>
<p>I hope that you can find some healing in going back to work, and I am glad that you have found some comfort in some of the things that you have experienced so far.</p>
<p>I have lost both my parents, and while I think it does not compare to what happened to you, it was tough. My Dad died unexpectedly almost 30 years ago when I was still in school. The shock combined with the loss was great. I found that if I had not had so much work to do for school, and the help of so many friends and fellow students, I am not sure what would have happened. What I found really hard was that perhaps 6 months later, I was still sobbing, and few around me understood. Don’t underestimate the help that can be there from a therapist, support group or clergy.</p>
<p>Some few years after I finished school, one of my closest friends, and his brother, were killed in a car accident. I will never forget calling his parents, and having his father offer words of comfort to me (after all I was calling to send my condolences). He said that they knew how much I and the many other friends who were reaching out had loved his son(s). It meant a lot to them that their sons had touched so many in such a positive way. I did not stay in touch with the parents, as I was too young at the time to appreciate that we had something to offer each other, however, I have often though of them over the years since then. </p>
<p>I don’t know how it will work out for you, and I know it will be painful, but I hope that you do realize that many others (your relatives, his friends) share the painful loss of your son. I hope you continue to find comfort where you can.</p>
<p>I was just going to suggest this! An acquaintance with a very wide circle of friends did something similar after he received a grim cancer diagnosis…he said (in a very nice way) that he didn’t want to hear everyone’s and eveyone’s relatives cancer stories or advice, he just wanted to live and work as he always had. I don’t think anyone was offended.</p>
<p>I am so sorry for your loss. Have you read the book “When Bad Things Happen to Good People” by Harold Kushner? We went through a difficult situation in our family and the book was cathartic and helpful. Nothing can change what happened but you and your family have to figure out how to regroup and keep going. Obviously one of the things that is creeping into your head is guilt and asking what could you have done to change the outcome. I think this book will help a little bit; it helped me. Time will help a little bit here but you have to concentrate on the rest of your family now and try to heal together. As the father of four my heart goes out to you and my prayers are with you. God Bless.</p>
<p>When I lost someone I loved many years ago, it was both obscene and comforting to realize that the world kept turning and life around me went on despite the incredible devastation and grief I felt. When I went back to work, I was amazed that occasionally I could take a breath or have a thought that did not focus on my loved one or my loss.</p>
<p>And that is how the raw hole in your heart and your life begins to heal. Unfortunately, Penny, the healing process is not linear with every day being a bit easier than the previous one. You are going to have days when a glimpse of someone who looks a bit like your son or the sound of a song that he loved triggers a return of that suffocating, aching grief. But keep putting one foot in front of the other. Eventually I pray that you will be able to think of some funny thing your son said or a sweet thing he did – and smile, remembering first the joy and love he brought to your life rather than the sad, too-soon way he died. When that happens, I know your son will be smiling with you.</p>
<p>Penny, my best friend lost her 19-year-old daughter under similar circumstances two years ago. She has found the most comfort/coping assistance through a support group that caters specifically to parents who have lost children. She tells me that truly, they are the ones who can best understand the nuances of this kind of grief. Sendin’ you the light so that you can find the same. You are your own expert on what you need to get through, and what time that will take. Blessings, K</p>
<p>OP, my thoughts and prayers are with you. I lost my brother to his addictions last year, and it was so difficult. I can’t even imagine how difficult it must be to lose a child. Last week in Nashville, I met a music store owner who had lost his son two weeks before - the hurt in his eyes as he mentioned his loss was heartbreaking. Know that you are held close in the hearts of many.</p>
<p>Penny, I am so sorry to hear about your loss. Please accept a virtual hug. When you are feeling up to it, and if you feel like it might help, this is a book written by a group of parents who lost their young adult children. I read it last year from our library while still grieving for the death of a sibling from a few years back. Each parent had their own unique story and ways of coping with their tragedy.</p>
<p>Penny-
My heart breaks for you and I send you cybersupport. I read your post where you said how hard it was going to be to go back to work because the flood of condolences might make it too hard. I wanted to share with you that I have a doctor who lost her only child (a young adult). When I went to her office there were signs posted everywhere (waiting room window, in the individual rooms, etc.) asking patients not to discuss the situation anywhere in the office, even to provide condolences or comments of support. The signs said that if patients wanted to provide support they could write her a letter to be read by her after work. Not sure how this would work in a high school situation, but once I thought about it I certainly understood how she needed to get through her workday being able to focus without repeatedly discussing her grief and riding that rollercoaster every 30 minutes with a different person. Take your time. Only you can decide if work would be a welcome distraction or if it understandably requires more focus than you can muster right now.</p>
<p>Could you ask your principal to send an e-mail to the rest of the faculty and staff explaining your situation, sharing your concern that a flood of condolences – no matter how well meant – might make it impossible for you to focus on work, and asking them not to discuss the situation with you at work unless you bring it up? This could be the equivalent of those signs in the doctor’s office. In fact, the principal could even include the suggestion about writing a letter to be read after work – which seems like a good way for people to be able to express their sympathy without adding to your burdens during the work day.</p>
<p>Penny, I’ve just read this thread for the first time. It’s heartbreaking and I’m deeply sorry for your loss. Thank you for having the courage to share this with the CC community. Wishing you and your family comfort, strength and peace.</p>
<p>I second asking the Principal to communicate with your co-workers.<br>
I teach too. When my Mom unexpectedly passed away over Christmas break seven years ago, it was so awkward to return to work in Jan. and have well-meaning people ask me over and over for days/weeks “how are you doing?”</p>
<p>Psychomom - your posts have helped me tremendously. It is easy to forget what is truly important. I know this is no comfort, but I thought it helpful that you know that your reaching out helps others in framing their emotions and perspectives. </p>
<p>Getting a lot of attention at work is a pain. I would hazard a guess you will get a lot of it, and not merely because people feel badly. If, as it appears from your writings, you are really competent at what you do, and others look up to you for your work and leadership, well, people are going to try and make you feel better - your competence is instilled in the order of things and colleagues typically want to keep that order in place - it is the essential fabric to their working lives. In the end you are committed to doing things right, and that is all that matters. </p>
<p>I am in agreement 100% with others here - that this surely isn’t your fault. No theology has ever persuaded me as to why bad things happen to good people - it is just a mystery. </p>
<p>There are parents among us (and there are any number here) who quite readily manage to look past themselves and recognize that the achievements of their kids are not their achievements, but belong solely to their kids. But I think we need to say the same about their failures, too - kids are their own people and while we try to do right by them in terms of support, there is no guarantee that they will make good decisions, no matter how well raised. </p>
<p>I am a twin. My concern and feeling for my brother is highly irrational, and vice-versa, and I like to think I am very logical in other areas of my life. I am worried for your daughter. Twins typically frame thoughts and issues and even conversations within themselves in the context of their sibling and have a strong instinct to protect each other, more than they ever would like to admit. I would watch like crazy that she is not too hard on herself - something that is easy to say but hard to do. She both needs and deserves a soft landing here - twins don’t get trained in this kind of thing - indeed, none of us do. Take care.</p>
<p>Don’t know why I’m posting this here but just got word that a friend’s 23-year-old son is lying brain dead in the local hospital. Just a little too much speed on a rain-soaked road. It all happens in the blink of an eye. And you can’t turn back the clock.</p>
<p>^^ It happens far too often. Two years ago, S2 lost his two best friends the same way, speeding, took curve too fast, ran off the road and flipped, no seatbelts. They were 18. It was and still is a terrible loss but nothing anyone could have foreseen or controlled.</p>
<p>I have just read about your loss, Penny. I’m glad that writing here is helping you, because please know that it is helping so many of us, too. I can’t offer the wisdom of those who have trod the path that you are now on. But please know that your family is in my thoughts and prayers.</p>
<p>I think it is every parent’s greatest fear that we might lose our children. When it does happen, every one of us can feel the pain … not to the extent of the one who suffered the actual loss, of course … but we can empathize. Our hearts break for our friends who are going through such a nightmare, and we all know that it could happen to any of us, as stated above, “in the blink of an eye.”</p>